


Help From Another World

by Scribe_of_Worlds



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Awesome, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-07-24
Packaged: 2018-02-10 02:25:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2007507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scribe_of_Worlds/pseuds/Scribe_of_Worlds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Middle Earth is in peril. The Forces of Light are failing, while the strength of Mordor grows every day. From Valinor, the Valar has been observing. Middle Earth is in need of help, but few can be spared anymore. They need help. Help from Another World.</p>
<p>A week has passed after the Battle of Manhattan. Percy and Annabeth, and their little gang head out to Central Park for a picnic, right until a shimmering doorway across universes appears right next to them, with a voice calling for aid. </p>
<p>Two different universes collide, as Percy and gang team up with the Fellowship of the Ring. The Forces of Mordor will never know what hit them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Here is my first ever fanfiction that I have ever wrote, Don't be afraid to judge me on the grammar and stuff, if you notice anything, and please review and comment!

**Isengard**

Two men walked along a paved road into the door of a imposing black tower, one robed in grey, the other in a shimmering white. They both had the appearance of old men, yet the frailness of age was not upon them, though they both held staffs in their hands. They spoke of the events sweeping across the land.

“Sauron has regained much of his former strength.” Saruman spoke, his voice toneless. “He cannot yet take a physical form, but his spirit has lost none of his potency. Concealed within his fortress, the Lord of Mordor sees all. His gazes pierces cloud, shadow, earth and flesh. You know of what I speak, Gandalf. A great Eye. Lidless, wreathed in flame.”

Gandalf nodded. He knew of it. He spoke softly.“The Eye of Sauron.”

“He is gathering all evil to him.”Saruman agreed. “Very soon, he will have summoned an army great enough to launch an assault upon Middle Earth.”

Gandalf turned to his companion, his gaze questioning. An edge of suspicion crept into his voice. “You know this? How?”

Saruman gave him a mysterious look, his face unreadable. “I have seen it.” He beckoned Gandalf to follow him into a huge chamber.

At the very centre of the room was a raised stone plinth. On top of it rested a spherical object covered in a cloth. Saruman lifted the cloth, revealing a glass sphere, lit from the inside by a pulsing red light. Swirls of light swept over the globe, giving it an eerie glow.

Gandalf raised an eyebrow in surprise. So the seeing-stone of Orthanc had been preserved. And Saruman dared to use it? “A palantir is a dangerous tool, Saruman.”

Saruman sneered. “Why? Why should we fear to use it? it is tool, no more. An exceedingly useful tool. I have seen things throughout Middle Earth from the comfort of my chamber. And I have seen many things, Gandalf. Many things.”

Gandalf felt a claw of foreboding grip his heart. Why was Saruman speaking like this? Something was not right here.

Saruman continued. “The hour is later than you think. Sauron’s forces are already moving. The Nine have set out from Minas Morgul.”

Gandalf gasped. “The Nine!”

Saruman shrugged. “They are unstoppable. They will find the Ring…and kill the one who carries it.”

Gandalf started towards the door, horrified. He had learned what he needed. Frodo was in danger now. He would have set out from the Shire a few days ago. He would have to be there to protect him. suddenly, a loud creaking sounded, and the doors he had been heading for slammed shut, locking themselves with a magical command. Gandalf stopped short of the doors, shocked and puzzled.

From his throne, Saruman spoke calmly. “You did not seriously think a hobbit could contend with the might of Sauron? There are none who can.”

The claw of foreboding turned to fear and horror. A niggling suspicion at the back of his mind blossomed into a dawning realization.

“And listen, Gandalf, my old friend and helper! " He said, coming near and speaking now in a

softer voice. "I said we, for we it may be, if you will join with me. A new Power is rising. Against it the old allies and policies will not avail us at all. There is no hope left in Elves or dying Númenor. This then is one choice before you. Before us. We may join with that Power. It would be wise, Gandalf. There is hope that way. Its victory is at hand; and there will be rich reward for those that aided it. As the Power grows, its proved friends will also grow; and the Wise, such as you and I, may with patience come at last to direct its courses, to control it. We can bide our time, we can keep our thoughts in our hearts, deploring maybe evils done by the way, but approving the high and ultimate purpose: Knowledge, Rule, Order; all the things that we have so far striven in vain to accomplish, hindered rather than helped by our weak or idle friends.”

 

It was true then. Saruman had fallen. Gandalf spoke slowly, in a voice grown cold and deadly. “Tell me, _friend,_ when did Saruman the White exchange wisdom for madness?”

 

Saruman threw back his head and laughed. “Saruman the White? I cast aside that name. I am Saruman the Wise, Saruman of Many Colors!” He stood, and Gandalf suddenly perceived something, as if an illusion had been dropped. Saruman’s robes, which had seemed white at first glance, were woven of hundreds of colors, of many hues, all shimmering and blending as he moved to give the original illusion of white.

 

Gandalf growled. “I liked white better.”

 

Saruman sneered scornfully. “Enough. I bought you hither to give you a choice. Will you submit to me, and to Sauron?”

 

Gandalf planted his staff firmly on the ground, gathering his power. “I give you my answer then, Saruman. Never.”

 

Saruman’s face turned hard as stone, and slowly, like a serpent coiling to strike, he walked down towards Gandalf, his smooth white staff glowing.

 

Gandalf barely had time to summon a shield before the wave of energy slammed into him, pushing him back. He immediately retaliated with a push of his own, designed to push Saruman off balance. He knew Saruman was stronger than he was. His only hope was to keep Saruman off balance long enough to find a way out.

 

A chain of lighting erupted out of Saruman’s staff, barely missing Gandalf’s side and singing his grey robe. Gandalf raised his staff and sent two of his signature fireworks screaming towards Saruman. He avoided one of them and deflected the other with a scornful look, then slammed his staff on the ground. A shockwave of energy burst out from the impact point, knocking Gandalf off his feet.

 

Gandalf groaned with pain, then swept his staff in front of him, shooting out a blinding bright light, causing Saruman to throw up his hands to shield his eyes, and giving him enough time to recover. A scything bolt of energy flew out of the light towards him. Gandalf barely jumped out of the way in time. His body ached. _I'm too old for this._

 

He resorted to a classic defense, a ring of fire. Sweeping his staff around him in a circular motion, a wall of flame roared into life, surrounding him. he then slammed his staff into the ground, and the burning ring expanded outwards with surprising speed. He hoped this would disorient Saruman, but the other wizard had other plans. Saruman doused the flames with his staff, then fired two spells of binding.

Gandalf barely managed to deflect the first, but the second caught him unprepared. He fell stiffly to the ground, paralyzed. Saruman contemptuously strode over and plucked his staff out of his powerless hands.

Gandalf was now utterly helpless, his own staff turned against him. Saruman pointed both staffs at him, and he was pinned down by the force. Saruman had an evil glint in his eye, and he slammed Gandalf repeatedly into the walls and the floor. Gandalf groaned in excruciating pain. The pain was too much. He couldn't fight his own staff along with Saruman.

"I offered you a choice" growled Saruman, slamming Gandalf into the wall. Gandalf gasped in pain as his ribs collided with the wall. "But you have elected the way of…pain!" Each word was emphasized with Gandalf slamming into something or other. Saruman raised both staffs, and Gandalf felt himself rising against his will. He flew higher and higher, until he was at the very top of Saruman's tower, Orthanc.

He had been defeated. He was a prisoner now.

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Now, a tired, hunched figure with tattered robes of grey, he lay upon the top of Orthanc, at the platform in the centre of the four black spires. Up here, without his staff, with no way to get down, he was well and truly at the mercy of Saruman. He paced up and down the small platform, the moon shining in his hair. He was helpless. Even now, Frodo would be at Bree, perhaps even at the inn, with the Ringwraiths closing in on him. He had left a letter with Butterbur, the innkeeper, but that man had a tendency to forget the things that were most important. All his thoughts and prayers now rested on the ability of Aragorn to find the hobbits and help them before the Ringwraiths did.

Suddenly, he sensed the presence of something else, something pure, innocent, untainted by the evil here. A small moth fluttered past the tall spires. An idea hit him. In a quick, darting movement, he caught the moth and held it in the hollow of his hand, and spoke to it, an appeal in the language everything understands. A simple word:"Help". He released the moth, and it fluttered away, towards the direction of the Misty Mountains. A small piece of hope flared within him. Someone will hear, someone will come. The old man settled down for a long wait.

Unknown to him, his message would reach ears far beyond what he had intended. Far enough, even to reach another world. And help would come. Help from another World.

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**Leave a review saying which things you liked and which things are better!**

**Signing out!**

 


	2. Divine Councils

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (grins and twirls pens River style) Spoilers.

**And the second prologue is here. Gandalf has made his plea, but the eagle isn't the only one who heard. How do you like this? Please review! Even Flame if you want to, I just want to know people are reading this.**

**Disclaimer-The Lord of the Rings and Percy Jackson belong to Rick Riordan and J.R.R. Tolkien.**

**EDITED AND REVAMPED ON 31 DECEMBER 2013**

**BTW, HAPPY NEW YEAR TO ALL YOU AWESOME READERS!**

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Prologue 2

Valinor

Manwe, Lord of the Valar and Commander of the Air, stood in his throne room at the palace at Arda and watched Middle Earth. Things were not going well. Sauron, once the servant of Melkor had once again clawed his way back to threaten the peace of Middle Earth. Once thought to be defeated during the Last Alliance of Men and Elves, and once again destroyed during his short return as the Necromancer of Dol Guldor, the Enemy was gathering strength again. Manwe knew that Sauron could not be destroyed as a mortal could. His life force had been bound into the Ring, the foul creation of his, and as long as the Ring remained, he would remain. He now saw that his defeat sixty years ago had been a feint, a trick to blind the Maiar and the rest of the White Council. Sauron had now chosen to fully reveal himself in his fortress of Barad-Dur, and now the Nine rode among the free lands of Middle Earth along with his vast armies of orcs, sowing terror and spreading discord. Even in the dark depths of Moria, ancient evil was stirring.

Against this darkness, though, light still shone. Frodo Baggins, a young hobbit of the Shire, had come into possession of this Ring, and by the advice of Olorin had set out to Rivendell. Manwe was quietly impressed by this hardy race. A normal man would have succumbed to the lure of the Ring a long time ago. It was a testament to the good hearts and strength of the hobbit-kind that Bilbo Baggins could hold it for sixty years without being corrupted by the Ring. Even now, four of the hobbits were on the road to Rivendell, guided by the heir of Elendil and Isildur, Aragorn. But time was running out. Already the Ringwraiths were searching. They were already on their trail. There were problems. Olorin should have met them three days ago. Where was he? Manwe paced worriedly around his throne room as Varda watched in concern. Middle Earth was now facing one of its biggest threats again, and the forces of good had weakened.

At that moment, a voice, carried by the wings of the wind, his servants, reached him. "Help." Manwe started. _That voice!_ He turned his attention to Isengard, from whence the cry had come, and beheld a terrible sight. Olorin, tired and frail, trapped atop the tower of Orthanc, which meant that Curunir had finally succumbed to his lust for power. His chosen Maiar sat hunched against one of the spires, as though conserving his strength. Looking closer, Manwe noticed a tiny moth negotiating the wind currents, carrying Olorin's plea with it. This was something that he could help with. He sent a gentle wind current to aid the moth, blowing it to the region of Mirkwood, where Aiwendil had made his home. Aiwendil would then be able to persuade one of his animal friends to bring help.

Manwe stepped back, face still set in a frown. It still wasn't enough. Middle Earth needed help. Strong warriors that would aid the people in their time of desperate need. By the will of Eru Iluvatar, he and his kin were forbidden to interfere with the people and workings of Middle Earth, but something needed to be done. He must discuss these matters with his fellow Valar. He turned to Varda. "Varda? Please summon the other Valar to a council. There are matters we must discuss among us." His beautiful wife, Queen of the Stars, nodded and quietly left the room.

=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o

Hours later, the rest of the Valar arrived. Ulmo, Lord of the Waters, second only to him. Aule, the Smith, maker of the Dwarves. Orome the Huntsman. Mandos, Lord of the Dead and his brother Lorien, Master of Visions and Dreams. For the women, Varda, his wife, Yavanna, Queen of the Earth and spouse of Aule. Nienna, the Lady of Mercy, Este the Gentle, and Vana, Queen of the Flowers and Ever-Young. They sat in a circle.

The Council began.

"Why have you called us here, Manwe?" asked Ulmo. "Why summon us to Valinor at this hour?"

"My Friends," Manwe spoke in a quiet yet commanding voice. "Middle Earth, our charge, now faces a threat long thought dead."

Ulmo sighed. "That much is clear, Manwe. We are not blind. Yet what can we do about it?"

Most of the Valar then tried to give their own opinions and observations, resulting in a huge clamoring in the throne room, until Varda opened her palm and let out a blinding flash of starlight. "Quiet!" commanded Varda." Listen to what he has to say."

The others quieted down respectfully. Manwe then proceeded to tell them his observations. In the style and manner of a master storyteller, he retold the story of Middle Earth, starting with the creation of Middle Earth by Eru Iluvatar, and the creating of the Valar and the Maiar to preserve order among the land. He spoke of how Melkor, once the most powerful of them, had fallen and tried to subvert the land into his own vision. Sauron, who had once served under Aule, had also joined him in his quest for power, then only as a lieutenant. Melkor had spread chaos and discord into the world, and stole the great Silmarils from the land. He planted seeds of darkness among all men and corrupted many elves with his promises of power and his empty lies. He was the one who corrupted the Men of Numenor, and caused the seperation of Valinor from Middle Earth. Only when the Host of Valinor had taken matters into their own hands had he been defeated by their unitted force and cast into the void. As he told the story, Manwe noticed the sad and angry expressions of the other Valar.

Aule raised his hand. "These are painful memories, Manwe. Why dredge up the past again? Melkor has been defeated for good. I see no reason to bring up that dark chapter of our past."

Manwe acknowledged him with a nod, then continued. "I do realize those memories are painful, yet they are relevant to what we face today." At the mention of this, many of the Valar's faces tightened noticeably, and tears appeared in Este and Nienna's eyes. "As you all remember, Melkor, or Morgoth as he later named himself, had a most devoted lieutenant. Sauron was his name."

Aule grimaced at the name, and shut his eyes. Yavanna took his hand, comforting him.

"Sauron was cunning and devious. He began forging the Great Rings, and teaching elves the craft of enchanted rings. Nineteen were thought to have been made, with varying strengths and uses, to bring order and to exert the will of its wearer on its chosen realm. Three Rings were given to the Elven-kings under the sky, seven to the Dwarf Lords in their halls of stone. Nine rings for mortal men doomed to die. And now we know that Sauron forged another Ring in secret. In the fires of Orodruin, he forged a Master Ring, transferring much of his power and spirit into it. With it, he could then dominate the wills of others who bore the Rings. In that venture, he was only partly successful. The elves, as soon as they learned of his betrayal, removed their Rings and hid them, rendering them lost to him. Four of the dwarf Rings had been destroyed by dragonfire, but Sauron succeeded in capturing the other three. The Nine men who bore the Rings were corrupted easily, and became the Nine Ringwraiths, his most loyal and dreaded servants. Sauron then proceeded to spread fear over Middle Earth. But the might of Elves and Men were stronger then, and they formed a Last Alliance to challenge him. It was then when Isildur, with a stroke of his father's broken sword, cut off Sauron's finger, weakening him and gaining victory."

Orome spoke up. "All this we know, Manwe. This is not news to us. We know, also of Sauron's attempted return sixty years ago as the Necromancer, thwarted by the actions of the White Council. What is the reason we are assembled here today?"

Manwe smiled wryly. "Ever the impatient Huntsman, Orome. Very well. Allow me to show you." He spread his hands, and the land of Middle Earth lay projected before them in the throne room. Manwe started telling them of Sauron's latest return, and his plans. The Enemy was clearly getting stronger, and all he needed to complete his subjugation of Middle Earth was the One Ring. The warriors of the Light were now too few and too weak. He then sighed. "And this is the reason I called you here today. A tragedy has happened. Curunir has fallen. He now serves the Dark Lord of Barad-Dur, and has captured Olorin and imprisoned him on top of the tower Orthanc." He spread his arms, calling upon the wind to deliver the message it had brought him. a whisper, a word, drifted into the room. A simple plea, driven by desperation and tinged with sadness and weakness. "Help."

A ripple of shock and anger spread through the Valar. Aule put his head in his hands while Yavanna tried to comfort him. Curunir was now the second of his Maia to betray him. In a bitter twist of irony, his current Maia had deserted him to serve his former Maia. Este and Nienna, the gentlest of the Ladies, were brought to tears by the weakness and the sheer desperation of the plea.

"Manwe. What do you have in mind?" Nienna asked softly. "What can be done to help?"

Mandos cleared his throat. "The problem, as I see it, is that while the Enemy has plainly been gathering strength, the peoples of light have waned. The Istari are divided and weak. The Numenoreans are a doomed race. The elves have started to abandon Middle Earth to sail for the Undying Lands. The dwarves retreat into their mountain caves. In these times, from where shall this help come from? You know the Valar are forbidden by Eru himself to intervene directly in matters of Middle Earth. From where shall we find this aid?"

Lorien spoke, a thoughtful look on his face:" Brothers, help cannot be found on Middle Earth, it is true, but what of the other realms?"

"Other realms? Hah! I fear that you have spent too long in the realm of dreams, and have finally confused your visions for reality, Lorien." Aule sniffed.

Yavanna took his hand, quieting him."What is this talk of other worlds, Lorien? Iluvatar created Middle Earth and Valinor, nothing else."

"At least let us hear him out, Yavanna." Ulmo said from his seat.

"Aye. Thank you, Ulmo." Lorien smiled. "In dreams and visions, I have seen another world. One with other deities and great heroes as well. Heroes with great power. It is called "Earth".

"Earth?" inquired Yavanna curiously. "It sounds most similar to our realm."

"Yes, earth. A land not unlike ours, but with great magic." Answered Lorien. "Iron birds that carry people in the air, Iron carriages that need no horses, buildings that reach out to the sky, tubes that can kill with a sound." The rest of the Valar seemed to have some trouble taking it in, but they seemed willing to listen.

"Impossible!" scoffed Aule. "These things cannot exist. I am the Smith, and I have never even heard word of these creations."

Lorien stood. There was no anger in his face, but there was fire in his eyes."I speak the truth. I am…special, among the Valar. Dreams and Visions are often considered to be a realm of their own, unconfined to restrictions of our world. Among this shadowy realm, The veil between other realms are the thinnest, and I often see things that are beyond imagining." A wry smile crept onto his face. "I dare say that you wouldn't believe half of the things I have seen, though you know of my honesty. I speak of only what I have seen with my own eyes. As it is, I believe I have even conversed once with the Dreamweaver from that realm" He said it with such conviction that nobody doubted him anymore.

"Well, why not try to contact the leaders of this "earth" and ask for help?" asked Varda.

Manwe smiled for the first time. "an excellent idea. All in favor, rise." As one, the entire council rose. "Very well. Lorien, you can converse with them? Excellent. We shall ask for the aid of some of their most powerful heroes."

The Valar rose and exchanged farewells, then departed to their own realms. The Council was dismissed.

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**Olympus. Two days later.**

"ARE YOU INSANE?!" Poseidon roared, grabbing Zeus by the collar and slamming him against the wall of the throne room. "This is my son, my son you are offering! He had just survived a war of his own at only sixteen! In case the knock Typhon gave you is still affecting you, you will remember that Percy defeated Kronos for us! You cannot just send him to another world to fight another war!" The God of the Sea was furious, and it showed. The oceans of the sea were churning, and at that very moment a couple of tsunamis were hitting shores all over the earth, and some places were experiencing some earthquakes. Athena and Artemis, who were in the same room, stepped back slightly. It was not often that the easygoing Sea God became angry, but when he did, it was frightening. Even Hades looked a little taken aback. Hestia watched disapprovingly from the hearth, but said nothing. Outside, it began to rain.

Zeus managed to shake him off and glared at him. lightning crackled around his fingers, and the smell of ozone filled the air. Fortunately, Athena intervened before anymore violence could happen. "Father, Poseidon is right. Our children have just gone through a war. They deserve a rest." A edge of steel entered her voice, "And, this is also my daughter we are talking about. I will not stand seeing her in more danger. Besides, what of your own daughter? And Hades' son? You cannot just agree to put our children in more danger just because some other god asks for assistance. What has possessed you to do this?"

Artemis added "Father, I have to agree with my uncles and my sister. Thalia Grace has sworn herself into my service. As it is, she is under my protection. I cannot allow you to just give her services to some other place like a common slave girl in Greece!"

Hades joined in for good measure. His face was emotionless, but his voice was steel."You are insane, brother. As Poseidon has said, you have no right, no right at all to touch our children, much less to offer him to another 'realm'. If any harm was to befall him, it would be your fault. I already have lost Nico's mother and Bianca. I will not lose Nico too." A couple of tremors shook New York underneath.

The five Olympians argued back and forth in the throne room. Zeus had received a vision the night before, from a god who claimed to be from another world, asking for help from their greatest heroes. In a fit of pride at being asked, Zeus had immediately agreed and volunteered four of the best demigod heroes from Camp Half Blood. Looking back, he kind of regretted his quick decision. His immortal family was really letting him have it. Poseidon raged, Artemis pleaded, Athena reasoned and Hades ventured the occasional scathing comment. Zeus was unhappy. He was the King of the Gods, for his sake! He could do whatever he pleased with the demigods, to Tartarus with what his family thought. In Sparta, for instance, it would have been a great honor for their children to fight in the army! Thus, Zeus was deaf to all of the other's arguments.

He slammed a thunderbolt into the floor of the throne room, stunning the rest into silence. "Lorien had made it clear that is a great honor to be chosen for this! And they'll be safe, don't worry. Though I hate to admit it, they are not called the strongest demigods for nothing." He grimaced, as though the words tasted bad in his mouth. "I have made my decision. I will not be shaken." With that, he left the room with a terrific flash of lightning and a loud thunderclap.

The remaining four gods looked despairingly at each other. "We have to warn them."said Poseidon grimly. I will not let that idiot of my brother put my son in more danger."

Athena agreed," yes. Father has indeed gone too far."

Hades was already walking out the door to look for Nico. The four demigods in question had decided to take a picnic in Central Park to celebrate their victory over Kronos that day, and that was where all four gods were headed. Hestia watched them leave sadly. She knew that it was already too late.

By the time the four gods appeared in Central Park, looking for their childrenthey reached Central Park, they were too late. Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase, Nico Di Angelo and Thalia Grace were gone. Vanished off the face of the earth.

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**By the way, I'm Malaysian, so my English might not be as good. I tend to mix u.k and u.s a lot, actually.**

**Edited and revamped ON 31 December 2013. Better use of quotation marks, expanded on the council scene with a lot more involvement from the other Valar and historical trivia from the first age. Also made the flow smoother in the second scene. In my opinion, this chapter has been ramped three notches up the quality meter. Haha. Review and tell me what you think!**

**To keep the feel of the Valar, I used the true names of the Istari when referring to them. Aiwendil is Radagast, Olorin is Gandalf, and Curunir is, of course, Saruman. hope nobody is too confused!**

**Signing out.**

**'**

 


	3. the Fellowship Assembles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Again, Spoilers.

**Hey everyone! Yeah, i know it has been a while. But I am back with a new and much revamped chapter 3! Seriously, i went all out trying to make this chapter better, and i genuinely hope you enjoy this version more. On with the tale, then!**

Discaimer- both worlds, places and characters do not belong to me.

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**Gondor**

_Seek for the Sword that was Broken,_

_In Imladris it dwells;_

_There shall be counsel given,_

_Stronger than Morgul spells;_

_There shall be shown a token,_

_That Doom is near at hand;_

_For Isildur's Bane shall awaken,_

_And the Halfling forth shall stand._

Boromir gasped as he awoke, grasping at his bedsheets. He sat up, then took a draught of water from the jar by his bed. _The Dream. The Rhyme._ It was no coincidence. He got out of bed and threw a shirt on, then walked out of his room quickly and knocked insistently on the door of the room opposite his. Nobody answered. Frowning, he knocked harder. "Faramir, wake up!"

Something stirred inside the room, and the door opened slowly. Faramir stood there, eyes still heavy from sleep, not even bothering to throw on a shirt. "Boromir, it is far too early for the morning patrol. There must be many hours till dawn!"

Boromir grasped his brother's shoulders. "Faramir, listen. I had that dream. The dream you told me about! The one you kept having!"

That shook Faramir awake. His eyes widened. " _Seek for the Sword that was Broken."_ He quoted.

Boromir nodded frantically. " _In Imladris it dwells."_ He completed the line.

Faramir shut the door in his face, and the sounds of a man hastily changing could be heard from inside. Faramir threw open the door again, this time with a shirt on. "Do you know what this means, brother? We have to tell Father about this!"

=o=o=o=o=o=o=o

"Imladris, yes, I know that name. It is the name of a far northern dale, where the elves still dwell. To us, it is known as Rivendell, home of Elrond Halfelven. He is the greatest of the lore-masters, and his wisdom is said to be exceeding great." Denethor spoke slowly.

"Then there is no room for doubt, is there?" Faramir asked. "Give me a horse, father, and provisions for a journey, and I shall ride to this Rivendell and seek counsel for these dark times."

"No! I shall not allow this kind of…Foolishness! Following a dream!" Denethor thundered.

"Father, the dream has come to Faramir for many days. You know this. Now it has come to me. It is clear that we are to go to Rivendell. You know yourself that the times are dark. Only weeks ago Osgiliath was nearly taken by the Dark Lord's servants." Boromir defended his brother.

Denethor turned away. "Our need is not that desperate that we need to go the _elves_ for counsel. What next? Perhaps you would speak to Eru Iluvatar himself?"

Faramir frowned. "I disagree, father. Our need is greater than ever. Mordor has allied itself with the cruel Haradrim and the Easterlings, but it is not that. If it were only numbers, I would not be so desperate. A power was there that we have not felt before."

"Aye." Boromir agreed. "Some said that it could be seen, like a great black horseman, a dark shadow under the moon. Wherever he came, madness filled our foes, making them bolder, while fear fell upon even the strongest of us, so that horse and man gave way and fled. It wielded pure fear and darkness."

Denethor sighed. "You are committed to this? Nothing I say will persuade you otherwise, Faramir?"

Faramir shook his head. "None."

Denethor stood up. "Then saddle your horse and leave. I care not."

Boromir noticed the quick expression of hurt that flickered across his brother's face, and he frowned. "No."

Both his brother and his father turned to him, questioning. "Faramir shall not go. The way will doubtless be full of doubt and danger. I am stronger than my brother. I shall go."

Both immediately made sounds of protest. "NO! You will stay here at Gondor, Boromir. You are not going on this fool's errand." Denethor commanded.

Boromir looked his father in the eye. "You were perfectly willing to allow Faramir to go, father. I am stronger than my brother, you know this. I will go. You cannot stop me."

Denethor looked at him in fury, but he saw the resolve in Boromir's eyes, and he threw up his hands in disgust. "Fine! Leave! Go to the _elves_ and leave Gondor undefended! Suit your own desires! Fool of a son!" He stormed out of the room with his robes flapping behind him.

Boromir and Faramir's eyes followed their father until he was gone, and they stared at each other helplessly. Faramir sighed. "I'll go back to my Rangers in Ithilien, then. Father will certainly not want _me_ around the Minas Tirith at this time."

Boromir nodded slightly. "I will go to prepare some provisions now."

Faramir smiled. "Alright, I suppose I will help you as well. Knowing you, you would pack your horn, shield and sword and forget everything else."

Boromir snorted with quiet laughter. "you know me too well, brother mine."

**=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o**

**Erebor**

The messenger from Mordor had returned again. Clothed entirely in black, upon a black horse, with a fell voice and an unsettling aura of menace. Dain, king of Erebor in the Lonely Mountain, went out to meet him once more. Along with him went the surviving companions of the Battle of the Five Armies, nearly sixty years ago. Dwalin, Dori, Nori, Bifur, Bofur and Bombur, and Gimli's father Gloin. Gimli snorted slightly as he watched Bombur moving towards the gates. Bombur was now so fat that he could not move himself from his couch to his chair at the table, and it took six young dwarves to lift him.

It was the third time the messenger had returned. Each time he said the same things. "The Lord Sauron the Great wishes for your friendship. Rings he would give for it, as the Seven he had given of old." He would also ask of _hobbits_. What they were, and where they dwelt, "For Sauron knows that one of those was known to you on a time."

Whenever he mentioned the _hobbit,_ Gimli would notice his father and his companions faces tighten. They knew of this hobbit. If he could hazard a guess, Gimli would say that the hobbit would be the one on the tapestries in the throne room of Erebor. The tapestry depicted the thirteen dwarves, led by Thorin Oakenshield and Gandalf the Grey. It also had a small man, not a man, yet smaller than a dwarf behind. That, perhaps, would be the hobbit, but his father would say nothing of him.

The messenger continued. "As a small token only of your friendship Sauron asks this, that you should find this thief, and get from him, willing or no, a little ring, the least of rings, that once he stole. It is but a trifle that Sauron fancies, and an earnest of your good will. Find it, and three rings that the Dwarf-sires possessed of old shall be returned to you, and the realm of Moria shall be yours forever. Find only news of the thief, whether he still lives and where, and you shall have great reward and lasting friendship from the Lord. Refuse, and things will not seem so well. Do you refuse?"

At that, the messenger breathed out, like a hiss, and Gimli felt a cold hand of fear clutch his heart, and he shuddered. Dain, the King, gathered his courage. He, too, obviously knew of whom the messenger spoke, but everyone knew that the messenger could not have good intentions towards the hobbit. "I say neither yea or nay. I must consider this message, and what it means under it's fair cloak." Behind him, the dwarves gave their support.

"Consider well, but not too long." The messenger growled slightly.

"The time of my thought is my own to spend." Dain answered boldly.

"For the present. I have come three times, and three times you have given me no answer. I shall come one more time before the end of this year, and then I will demand your answer." He threatened, and he rode off into the darkness.

=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=

"What do you think? What could the Lord of Mordor possibly want with Bilbo?" Bofur asked the assembled group.

Dain sighed as he eased himself into the stone throne. "I think you had best tell me what you know of your fourteenth companion, Bilbo Baggins. I only met him once, 60 years ago, and I confess I do not remember much."

The seven dwarves then launched into the story of Bilbo's unexpected journey to the Desolation of Smaug and beyond, and the great battle of the five armies. For the first time, Gimli heard all about his father's exploits against the dragon,and he was filled with awe. "Bilbo is a good hobbit." Dwalin concluded. "As for this ring that the messenger claims he stole, we do know of it. But Bilbo did not steal it. He won it in a game in the Misty Mountains! The messenger must be lying."

Dain rubbed his temple. "What are we to do? What has this hobbit done to incur the interest of Mordor?"

There was a collective mumble of confusion.

Dain frowned."The Shadow grows and draws nearer."

"Aye." Bifur nodded assent. "I have heard that the messenger has also gone to Brand, grandson of Bard. Brand is afraid. He might yield."

Dain sat up straight. "At any rate, we shall have to warn the good hobbit that he is under threat. Who shall go to Rivendell to warn him?"

Gloin raised his hand. "I have nothing better to do, my King. I shall take my son Gimli with me too."

Gimli frowned a little. "Elves, father?"

Gloin sighed. "You need to go out and see the world, Gimli my son. It would do you good. Come now. Gather your things."

Dain stood up. "Gloin, consult Elrond too. Tell him of the messengers claims, and ask him what it means. We need to know more of this."

Gloin bowed. "Yes, my King. We leave tomorrow."

Dain nodded. "The council is adjourned."

**=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o**

**Mirkwood**

Legolas, prince of Mirkwood, made his way to one of the great trees, where below three elven guards sat waiting impatiently. "Has he descended yet?" Legolas asked.

The guards sprang up, bowing. "No, my prince. He is still clinging to that bough with his feet and hands."

Legolas sighed. "Night is coming. If he hasn't descended by then, cut down the tree." He commanded, striding back into his Father's realm.

He was watchful. Though the White Council had drove the Necromancer out of Mirkwood sixty years ago, the darkness had returned once more, and Mirkwood was once again an evil place, save where their realm was maintained. It would not do to be careless.

He cast a glance back to where the elves were still waiting for the prisoner. The prisoner had arrived many days and nights ago, frog-marched between Mithrandir and Aragorn. A sly, skulking creature, thin as a stick, and hairless. Long grasping fingers and an expression of malice. Mithrandir had requested they guard the creature day and night, but also not to kill it, for he still had hope for its cure.

They had watched the prisoner, then. For days and nights, until they wearied of the task, but still they kept to it. The prisoner , which Aragorn had named _Gollum,_ loved to climb, so often they allowed him to climb a tall tree, under guard, of course, in hope that he would repent and be cured. But today had been different. Today Gollum had clung to the tree and refused to come down. The guards weren't particularly eager to go after him, as he could cling to a bough with a death-grip, so they had settled for waiting for him to come down.

He spent the rest of the day in his father's realm, making sure everything was going well. Night fell, and still the prisoner had not returned. A measure of disquiet entered his heart, and he waited at the doors, hoping for the safe return of the guards and the prisoner.

The night was moonless and starless. For many hours, Legolas waited until he could wait no more. He found his bow and a quiver of arrows and ran to the tree where he had saw them last.

Blood. There was blood on the ground, and a dead orc. The guards were slain around the tree. " _Rhaich!_ " Legolas swore. An orc? So close to his father's realm? He checked the ground, noting faint prints, and took off in the direction of the footprints. He glanced upwards to the trees, and saw his fears were true. Gollum was gone.

Legolas frowned. This was serious indeed. Mithrandir would have to be told. He sprinted back into the Elf-Kingdom and called for provisions for a journey to Rivendell. He would leave tomorrow.

= **o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o**

**Weathertop**

Aragorn's sword clashed with the black wraith in front of him. Dimly, he was aware of the hobbits screaming and panicking in fear. He mentally cursed the young hobbits for foolishly making a fire in spite of all the danger. He should have realized that hobbits thought with their stomachs. This was bad. There were at least five wraiths here, and Frodo had put on the Ring. He scanned the area desperately, looking for something to aid in the fight, and his gaze alighted on the fire the hobbits had built.

A grim smile crossed his features. Running over to the fire, he grabbed a burning brand and shoved it into the closest wraith's face. The foul wraith screamed in pain and fled. Aragorn wasted no time, turning on the other Ringwraiths. There! Three wraiths were gathered around…nothing? Then, as the horrible realization struck Aragorn, the lead wraith plunged his blade downwards, and there was a scream of pain. Frodo suddenly reappeared, a gash in his shoulder, screaming in pain. With a speed and power born of desperation and anger, Aragorn leaped forward and attacked the wraiths, sword in one hand, firebrand in the other. It was an intense battle, made even more terrible by the darkness that the wraiths loved, but Aragorn finally chased the last wraith away. He dropped the brand, chest heaving in exhaustion, and walked over to Frodo.

The diagnosis was grim. Frodo had been stabbed with a Morgul Blade. The tip of the blade had broken, and embedded itself within his body. As Aragorn picked up the hilt of the cursed sword, it dissolved in his hand. Aragorn sighed. He knew that the tip, if left in the hobbit's body, would slowly weaken him until he became as a wraith himself.

Samwise, Frodo's servant looked at him hopefully. "Can't you heal him, Strider?"

Regretfully, he shook his head. "This is beyond my power to heal. He needs Elvish medicine." He picked up Frodo's form easily and slung him over his shoulders. Frodo's eyes were white, and he was mumbling. Aragorn took off at a jog towards the forest, with the hobbits not far behind, holding torches for protection.

Frodo's breathing was getting shallow. "Is he going to die?" Pippin asked anxiously.

Aragorn sighed. "No. He is passing into the shadow world. Soon he will become a wraith just like them."

The distant cry of a ringwraith carried through the air. Merry fidgeted nervously. "They're close."

On top of Aragorn, Frodo gasped in sudden pain. Sam looked at his master worriedly. "Is there anything I can do, Strider?"

Aragorn thought hard. "Sam. You're a gardener. Do you know of the Athelas plant?"

Sam looked blank. "No."

"Kingsfoil!"

"Kingsfoil? That's a weed!"

"Trust me!" Aragorn put Frodo down gently and poked through the bushes, searching desperately for the plant.

Suddenly, a cold blade touched his neck. He tensed. He had been caught off his guard, and now he was going to die. Finally, the stranger spoke, and all the tension suddenly left his body at that beloved voice. "What's this? A Ranger caught off his guard?"

"Arwen!"

= **o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=** o=

**Valinor**

Manwe watched as the pieces started to fall into place. As the guardians of Middle Earth, they could not directly interfere. They could only nudge the elements together and hope for the best. Now for the final piece. He turned to Lorien and nodded once. Lorien bowed and closed his eyes, concentrating.

=o **=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=**

**Central Park, Manhattan.**

Percy Jackson walked through the park, picnic basket in one hand, Annabeth's hand in the other. It was a great day. Blue, cloudless skies, sunshine, birds in the air, a slight breeze blowing through the park, and of course the fact that he was with his best friends. The Battle of Manhattan had only happened two weeks ago, and New York was still rebuilding itself. It had been amusing, watching the news and the poor mortals trying to figure out many things, like the freak storms across the country (Typhon), the ever-present goldish dust underfoot (monster dust), how a giant maple tree seemed to have grown in just a few days near the park (Hyperion) and just how the statues of New York seemed to have gone rogue. There were still a few reports of automatons walking around, though Annabeth insisted that they had all been deactivated. Still, Central Park was relatively unspoiled, and Percy was just happy to be able to hang out with his friends like normal teenagers.

A squeeze on his hand brought him back to reality. "What is it Seaweed Brain? You looked like you were a million miles away."

Percy grinned at the girl walking beside him. Gods, Annabeth was beautiful. She obviously wasn't trying to look gorgeous, she simply was. As a daughter of Athena, she didn't believe in wearing makeup or trying to look good like most of the Aphrodite girls, but the truth was she looked like a goddess, and he had seen real goddesses. She was the best girlfriend anyone could wish for, beautiful and smart. Did he mention that she was the official Architect of Olympus? Yeah, Annabeth was awesome.

"Nothing, just marveling at you, Wise Girl." He laughed. "Besides, I'm barely a few inches from you."

Annabeth scowled playfully at him. "Very funny Seaweed Brain."

"You know you love me Wise Girl."

"Unfortunately, I do, Seaweed Brain." She smiled, leaning in for a kiss.

"Get a room, Kelp Face!" hollered a certain Hunter of Artemis walking behind them, causing Nico to snigger.

Percy stuck out his tongue at them. "I didn't ask you to tag along!" He had almost forgotten them. He had initially only asked Annabeth for the picnic, but he had met Corpse Breath and Pinecone Face along the way, and they had decided to invite themselves. Not that he cared, while a chance to be alone with Annabeth would have been nice, he was happy to be with his cousins.

"Yeah well I'm hungry!" that was Nico, son of Hades, powerful demigod, and overall emo teenager. Maybe it was his tendency to wear black, or the long hair, or the skull ring, he just looked emo to most people. Also, as his powers tended to drain him, he needed to eat and rest a lot, which was probably the reason for the statement.

"Ok, ok. Calm down, we'll find a place to sit, and then we'll eat. Ok?" Annabeth glanced at Percy with a raised eyebrow, to which he shrugged in response. Annabeth glared and punched him lightly. "Why do I have to make all the decisions?"

Percy smirked." That's cause you're the Architect of Olympus." To which he received another smack.

Thalia rolled her eyes and whispered to Nico. "It's like their married already." Nico nodded, snickering. Thalia was the daughter of Zeus, a Hunter of Artemis, and a punk girl, as she had a really weird taste in clothes. Her death to Barbie T-shirt attested to that fact. As a Lieutenant of Artemis, she also had a silver tiara on her hair, which according to Percy made her look like a Punk Princess. He had narrowly escaped electrocution for that remark.

After some more walking and a lot of good natured bickering, they found a spot and sat down. Percy took out some cheeseburgers and divided them among the demigods. Suddenly, the wind picked up, and the ground shuddered. Thunder rumbled in the distance and it started raining. Percy rolled his eyes and glanced up at the sky with exasperation. " _Really,_ Zeus? The day we decide to have a picnic together is the day you schedule a rainstorm?" Grumbling, he hurriedly packed the food back to the basket. Together, the four demigods ran to the nearest shelter. They made it just as another bolt of lightning flashed through the sky.

Thalia cocked an eyebrow as more lightning bolts flashed through the sky. "Well, Dad seems kinda pissed."

"My dad too…" agreed Nico just as another rumble shook the ground.

Percy shook his head in frustration. "Whatever it is, they must be arguing really badly. The storms picking up really fast…"

Suddenly, there was a bright flash of light that blinded the demigods temporarily. When it cleared, a doorway of light floated in the air. They couldn't see through the other side.

The demigods looked at each other apprehensively. Percy uncapped Riptide and activated his new shield Tyson had made for him. Annabeth drew her bronze knife; her mind was obviously running at a million miles an hour trying to analyze this. The shadows seemed to bend around Nico and form a sword of Stygian Iron. Thalia activated Aegis and her spear. Automatically, they all looked towards Percy, waiting for his call. Percy seemed to hesitate, but then he strode forward and poked Riptide through the door. When nothing happened, he poked his head through.

"Looks safe, guys. There's nothing here but a river by a forest or something.." He announced.

"Be careful, it could be a trap," Cautioned Annabeth.

"No duh". Thalia grunted.

Nico looked unconcerned, taking another bite out of his burger. Percy snorted. That kid certainly had his priorities straight.

" _Heroes! Come!"_ the four demigods jumped as they heard a loud, resonant voice in their heads. _"We need your help here."_

"Whoa! Time out!" yelled Percy, looking around him. "Which one are you again? And where are you hiding?"

" _I am Lorien, Master of Dreams and Visions. I am not with you physically but I can speak through this_ _temporary gateway I have created. Our land is in great peril. We need the help of the heroes."_

Percy turned at Annabeth questioningly. She frowned " The Greek God of Dreams is Morpheus. Perhaps this is a..different kind?"

"Percy, I think we should trust him" said Nico. "In my Father's realm, I have often watched souls being judged. I don't detect any hint of deception in his words."

" _Percy, Thalia, Nico, Annabeth, we need your help. Please."_ There was a pause, and then came a different voice. It was the voice of a frail, old man, a voice of desperation. _"Help."_ The voice switched back: " _Please make your decision quickly. I do not have the power to hold this doorway between the realms for have five minutes to make your decision. Will you help us?"_

Percy looked at his three friends. They all nodded at him resolutely, their decision written clearly on their faces.

"Alright then, let's go."

The four demigods stepped into the door of light and vanished. The door seemed to fold on itself, then it too winked out of existence, just as four desperate Gods appeared on the scene.

o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o **=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o**

**Revamped on 17/3/14**

**Well? What do you guys think about this one?**

**Comment Guys, Please! (smirks) Or I Shalt not Post the rest of the story here! :P**

**Signing off!**


	4. Convergence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WASSUUUUP?! Hey guys. Here is the heavily re-awesome-ized chapter 4, with a ton more improvement! I hope you guys like it better than the earlier one! And sorry for the slow update, yeah? Schoolwork been piling up. On a completely unrelated note, I have just recently got myself addicted to Doctor Who, the 2005 reboot. It's fantastic, absolutely fantastic. As I was saying, totally unrelated.
> 
> So, enjoy the chapter, kay? And Sherlock fans, can you spot that tiny reference I squeezed in there?
> 
> Allons-y!On with the tale!

**Arwen Evenstar**

Arwen Evenstar was riding like a demon. Speed was of the essence. Frodo had already started to fade and there were Ringwraiths behind her. She was getting nearer to her destination now, the river was near. Soon she would be over the river and in her father's home. She risked a quick glance behind her, and realized the wraiths were closer than she thought. She cursed and whispered into her Asfaloth's ear, spurring him on. " _Noro lim, Asfaloth! Noro lim!"_

Close now…very close. Behind her a delirious Frodo gave a gasp. She whirled and saw that one of the wraiths was almost close enough to touch. She gave an involuntary scream and lashed out with her sword. The Ringwraith fell back, shrieking angrily. The fell noise resounded in her ears. She couldn't lose them, no matter how hard she tried. Only last night she had been sent out to find Estel and bring him back to Rivendell. She had never expected finding him with a dying Ringbearer. Her meeting with her loved one had to be cut short, as she did what she could for Frodo. She had slowed the fade, but if the wraiths had him, there would be no saving him. Her eyes desperately scanned ahead, looking for the river that marked the borders of the hidden valley. _There!_ Some yards away, the river flowed swiftly. If only she could make it there in time.

Her horse was getting tired. She could feel it through how her horse breathed and its chest was heaving with exhaustion. She looked forward. The river was still a couple of yards ahead, and the Ringwraiths were gaining rapidly. She wasn't going to make it. Slowing slightly, she reached for her sword, Hadfahang. She whispered more words into her horse's ear, instructing it to make for her father's house and prepared to alight. The closest Ring wraith unsheathed its sword and reached forward…

…and shrieked in pain. Arwen gasped. There was a silver arrow protruding from the wraiths arm. Another arrow streaked past her ear and hit the wraith behind her. The wraith screamed as the arrow actually contacted with its body, wounding its essence. "Hey, look Nick! Dementors from your dad's realm!" A girl's voice called from the bushes. Arwen nearly fell off her horse in surprise. That voice sounded like a voice of a human girl! A youth! What was a girl doing here?

"Shut up and shoot, lightning bug!" A younger boy's voice retorted. Two more silver arrows streaked past her. The distance between Arwen and the wraiths started to lengthen. She could actually make it!

"Would you two stop bickering and focus? Annabeth, do you have any idea what they are?"Another voice commanded.

"I've no idea, Percy, but we've got to help that girl! On three?" A girl replied. Arwen almost felt insulted. The voice sounded hardly fifteen or sixteen winters old, and she was calling _her_ a girl? She risked another glance backwards. The Ringwraiths were slowly catching up.

Suddenly from behind a thicket, four human youths charged out, but they were like no youths she had ever seen. The leader was a raven-haired boy with striking sea-green eyes. He looked no more than 16 winters, but he was wielding with deadly expertise a deadly-looking leaf-shaped sword that seemed to give off a slight glow. He was also carrying a shield made of the same material, which strange designs hammered onto the surface. Beside him was a girl who also looked 16, with golden hair and storm grey eyes. Instead of a sword, she carried a long knife and a shield. The girl behind her was even stranger, with a long spear that seemed to crackle with electricity and a shield with a most horrifying design. Even seen from a distance, it made Arwen want to turn and run. The girl had electric blue eyes and a really strange hairstyle. A silver tiara was on her head. The last figure was dressed all in black. He looked younger than the others, probably 14. He wielded a sword seemingly made from pure shadow, black as nightmare, and a shield woven from the same material. Together, despite their seeming youth, they made a formidable group.

As one, they charged the Ringwraiths. Arwen turned Asfaloth, torn between having to get Frodo to safety and protecting these children, but the leader turned to her. "Go! We've got this!" she nodded her thanks and continued riding.

Once in the river, she felt safe. She was in her father's territory now. She looked back and stopped temporarily, amazed at the display before her. The youths were actually managing to hold their own against the wraiths! She saw the boys brandishing their swords with surprising skill for their age, while the girls danced around the wraiths, distracting them. One of the girls suddenly spun around and thrust her spear towards one of the wraiths' horses, and a bright flash of lightning lanced through the horse's body, felling it. She fell back, looking winded, while the other girl snatched up the spear and held the wraiths back. Once they saw she was in the river, they fell back and charged for the water.

This time, it was Arwen's turn to cover them as she fired arrows towards the wraiths to allow the youths time to reach the river. Finally, the lead wraith walked up, his horse slain. Waves of anger and malevolence flowed off him. "You will pay for your insolence." It hissed.

"Children, get out of the water! I shall drive them away!" Arwen warned them. The four of them got out of the river on the other side, weapons still outstretched. Arwen smiled at the wraith, then concentrated and called upon the River Bruinen, commanding it. " _Nin o Chithaeglir, lasto beth daer, Rimmo nin Bruinen, dan in Ulair! Nin o Chithaeglir, lasto beth daer, Rimmo nin Bruinen, dan in Ulair!(Waters of the Misty Mountains, Listen to my Word. Flow, waters of the Bruinen against the Ringwraiths!)"_

The waters rose. The current grew swifter. From the mountains, waters flowed down. The waves grew stronger. The Ringwraiths started to look uncertain, but they stepped into the water. Arwen smiled. Suddenly, a huge wave sprang up from the source, rising, flowing straight for the wraiths.

A laugh sounded from behind her. "Hey Perce, looks like you have a half sister." The boy in black chortled.

The other boy mocked smacked him, then turned back into the river. A grin appeared on his face. "Well, this will be fun." He closed his eyes and made a thrusting motion with his hands. To Arwen's shock, the river responded to him. Two arms made of water rose up. The boy smiled and thrust out with his fist. A gigantic fist of water slammed into the wraith. Another wraith was grabbed from his horse and flung to the ground…hard. Grinning fiercely, he made a grabbing motion, and two watery arms grabbed two more wraiths, smashed their heads together, and slammed them on the ground. The last wraith, who had hung back for most of the battle, wisely decided to make a run for it, only to be zapped by a bolt of lightning from the black-haired girl's spear. To cap it off, he raised his arms again, creating a wave that swept the wraiths far far away. The four teenagers relaxed and slapped their hands together, laughing.

"You didn't have to do the lightning thing, lieutenant Pinecone, I would have got him," laughed the tallest boy.

"And let you get all the fun? Not a chance, Kelp Head." She retorted.

The black haired boy laughed. "You both did awesome, alright?"

The golden-haired girl chuckled. "Show-offs" she chided laughingly. The obvious friendship and closeness of these youths made her smile. This kind of bond could only have been forged by total trust, trusting each other with their lives.

She turned to them. "Thank you so much for helping me. For now, I must leave you. I have to bring this sick hobbit to my father. You are welcome to come with me though. You would be welcome."

They appeared to consider it, having a whispered discussion among themselves. Arwen suddenly realized that their weapons were nowhere to be seen, except for the golden-haired girl's knife and shield. She wondered where the weapons had disappeared to. Who _were_ these people, and where had they come from? Finally, the leader turned to her, smiling. "We would be honored to."

Arwen nodded, smiling gratefully. "Follow me." She led them down a long winding passage through the hidden valley. Along the way, they had another round of whispered arguments/bickering, and then they were in the Rivendell. Arwen chuckled. She could almost hear the sound of four jaws hitting the floor at once. The sight of her home never failed to bring the same reaction to outsiders.

"Oh. My. Gods." The black haired girl breathed, summing up what she saw.

Arwen put a hand over her mouth to cover her smile. "Welcome to Rivendell."

"Oh my gods! Look at that architecture! It's _lovely!_ Look Percy! Isn't it amazing how they incorporated all that nature into the building? Wow!" The golden haired girl gushed as she took in the buildings, then she took hold of the older boy and dragged him off to take a further look.

The remaining two snickered at the sight, then wandered off into the houses to take a look around. Arwen gave them directions into the house, then picked up Frodo and ran to her father, who was standing on a balcony, watching with slight bemusement as the girl dragged her friend all over the place, giving a commentary on every single feature of the elvish architecture."Father, I found them. However, the Ringbearer has been wounded with a Morgul blade. He needs your healing quickly."

Elrond took Frodo into his arms, rewarding her with a gentle smile. "Well done, my daughter. Now, you had best attend to those youths. I, of course, am waiting to hear your story." He carried Frodo off into the rooms of healing. "Now, why don't you take some rest. I will meet you at the dinner table later."

**=o=o=o=o=o=o==o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o**

**Percy**

Rivendell

Percy wondered if there was a glazed look in his eyes. There probably was. Annabeth was still pulling him around, chattering about the wonderful sweeping Gothic style arches, the amazingly delicate designs carved everywhere, the way nature and the buildings coexisted perfectly, bla bla bla. When he looked at Annabeth, he saw her lips moving constantly, but he couldn't seem to hear anything. He loved Annabeth to death, of course, so he put up with it, keeping a smile on his face and nodding and agreeing whenever she turned to him.

Among their explorations, they came across the waterfall. Annabeth was right. The way that nature was side by side with the buildings, each complementing each other, was simply marvelous. "it's beautiful." He murmured, putting his hand through the waterfall and feeling that familiar surge of energy.

Annabeth turned to him, faintly amused. "oh? I thought you didn't care about this stuff, Seaweed Brain. You were barely listening, I could tell."

  1. Percy chuckled lightly, running a hand through his hair. "Doesn't mean I can't appreciate it." Annabeth smiled back at him, putting her hand in his. For a moment, everything was peaceful as they took in the valley.



"OI! Kelp Head! Annie! You coming in or not?!" Thalia yelled from the balcony of the main hall. "We're going to start dinner without you!" Percy and Annabeth rolled their eyes simultaneously, then ran for the building.

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They had dinner in a courtyard, lounging around a table piled up with fruits, vegetables, and bread, but no meat, to all but Annabeth's dismay. Around them, some women were playing instruments. Percy thought he saw a lyre and a flute, but the others were unidentifiable. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nico trying to sneak a sip out of a goblet of wine, only to have Thalia smack his arm. Nico pulled a face, and went for water instead.

The food tasted okay and not that different from home, except that everything seemed a lot fresher and more delicious in this world. The fruits were juicy, and the bread was still hot from the oven. There was also a thick broth of vegetables that tasted quite good. There were even some blueberries, which Percy surreptitiously squeezed over a piece of bread, staining it blue. Only Annabeth noticed, but she kept it quiet. Around the table were also several other people eating, but they mostly kept to themselves, talking quietly in musical tones.

Percy didn't know what to think of the people here. They were…different. They seemed taller, more refined and more graceful than normal people, moving with the sort of grace he associated with nymphs or something. Their faces were unlined, but that didn't fool Percy much. Their eyes gave their age away. Some kind of immortals, maybe? He decided they reminded him of the nymphs from Camp Half Blood the most, with their love of nature and their gracefulness. The woman they had helped earlier was sitting with her father at the head of the table, some ways off.

Munching idly on an apple, he turned to check on the rest of his team. Thalia held up a piece of celery and glared at it, then chewed it down slowly, muttering something under her breath that caused Nico to burst into snickers. Probably some comment about not liking green food. Nico was eating a fruit salad piece by piece, extremely slowly. Annabeth had already finished her food and had her laptop on her knees, using its programs to recreate a rough rendering of the architecture around them.

"Psst. Kelp Head. What say you we go hunt some rabbits and stew them later?" Thalia questioned, stringing her huntress bow. "I'm not a vegetarian."

Percy was about to answer when the woman gave a low laugh. "Is the food not to your liking, huntress?"

Thalia started and tried to stow away her bow, her face growing an interesting shade of red. "Uh…No! I mean…Yes! Uh…wait, how did you hear that?"

The lady laughed again. "I'm sorry if I'm intruding, but I could not help overhearing your conversation." Her face grew sober, as she stood up and walked over to them. "At the river…what you did, it bought me the time I needed to get Frodo to safety and healing. Without you, I think I would not have made it in time. I had not the time to thank you properly just now, so…Thank you." She curtseyed. "I am in your debt."

Annabeth gave a sharp, low gasp and nudged Percy, gesturing subtly to her ears. Percy's eyes widened as well. When the lady had bowed, her hair had shifted, revealing long pointed ears.

"Indeed." The leader of the elves, a tall, noble-looking…person with a silver circlet on his head agreed. His face looked really young, but his eyes were old, much older than some of the other people here. He gave off an aura of command and respect. "Thank you for lending your aid in our time of need. Dark times are upon us, it is true, but it gives us much hope that there are still people untainted by the darkness, who's first instinct is to help others."

"I…I'm sorry." Annabeth asked hesitantly. "But…What are you? Are you a race of nature spirits? I have never heard of you before."

The man looked surprised and confused. He frowned slightly. "You have never heard of the Firstborn? That is impossible! It is true that we are secluded now, but surely men still sing of Gil Galad and Elendil! Surely we have not been forgotten!"

"Well, we aren't exactly from these parts of the land." Percy explained. Annabeth shot him a grateful look.

The lady touched her pointed ears. "I should have thought it obvious. I am an elf."

The four demigods exchanged a utterly shocked look.

The lady continued. "My name is Arwen Evenstar, and this is my father Lord Elrond of Rivendell. And now, may I know the names of my helpers?"

Percy turned to his team, and they had a quick discussion using only their eyes. Eventually, he nodded and turned back to Arwen. "My name is Perseus Jackson."

Annabeth curtseyed slightly. "Annabeth Chase."

"Nico Di Angelo."

"Thalia." Annabeth and Percy turned to her questioningly. Thalia struggled with something, then sighed. "Grace. Thalia Grace."

"Interesting names indeed." Elrond commented. "may I ask what are you? My daughter has told me of the most amazing feats. Of summoning lightning and harnessing the River Bruinen."

Percy hesitated, wondering exactly what to say. Fortunately, Arwen made it easy for them. "Are you wizards?"

"Yes! We are. Wizards." Percy agreed, then turned to Annabeth, mouthing incredulously ' _there are wizards here?'_

"Oh?" Elrond frowned. "Arwen, it is impossible. There are only five Istari, as you know. Gandalf, Radagast, Saruman, Alatar and Pallando. These four youths cannot possibly be them." _Uh oh…_

"Well…" Thalia spoke up. "Like Kelp Head just said, we're not from around here."

"And how came you to Middle Earth? Did the Valar send you to aid us?" Elrond questioned.

"Um…well…we got…lost?" Percy answered, lamely. "Truth is, we don't know exactly where we are." Beside him, he felt a red hot glare burn his side and he quailed slightly. Funny how he could face Kronos with no hesitation and charge at monsters without fear, but one hint of disapproval from Annabeth could make him want to dig his own grave.

Arwen now looked more confused than ever. "That certainly explains your curious dress, but how do four powerful _wizards_ get themselves lost?"

"Not our fault" Nico piped up. "We were following Percy." Percy glared at him. _Gee thanks, Nick. Real supportive of you._

Elrond still looked skeptical, but he relented. "I see. you have your own secrets to keep. I shall not intrude, then. But if you need to speak to us, I am always ready to listen." He smiled. "You are welcome to all of Rivendell, from the library to the courtyards. No place is prohibited, save perhaps the bedchambers. Rivendell is a place of peace and learning, and I hope you will have a peaceful stay." So saying, he walked off.

Arwen looked at them and gave them an uncertain smile. "Shall I direct you to your bedchambers for the night? I can arrange two private rooms for both couples, or would you prefer a communal room?"

Percy and Annabeth immediately flushed red and yelled "Communal!", echoed only seconds later by Thalia and Nico, who were blushing a similar shade of crimson and determinedly not looking at each other.

Arwen laughed for the first time. "Calm down, I was only jesting. Come, I will take you to your rooms."

They were taken to a huge room with four beds, with a huge window at the east and a balcony. The whole room was decorated with carved marble vines and flowers. Thalia laughed. "Looks like the Zeus cabin crossed with the Demeter cabin." Annabeth ran to the balcony and checked out the amazing view. Nico just crashed onto the bed.

"The washroom is through that passage," Arwen pointed, "and the dining hall, should you get hungry, is through that one. Breakfast is served each morning from the seventh hour to the eighth. An elf will come to wake you if you are not already awake. Is there anything else? No? Then I bid you good night. _Lostho Ve, Mellon Nin."_ (Sleep Well, my friend) She glided out of the room.

They climbed into their soft beds, and Percy fell instantly asleep. That's not to say he didn't dream…

" _How are you settling in, Perseus?"_

_He was in the most beautiful garden he had ever seen in his life. The garden wandered around freely, with courtyards and fountains. The garden was full of labyrinths and mazes, but they were full of life. Deep blue pools were overshadowed by great yew, cedar and cypress trees. The scent of pines and nightflowers were in the air. Stars hung over the sky, lighting everything in a silver glow. Soft singing filled the air. As Percy gazed about in wonder, a figure appeared before him, robed in green and white._

" _Where am I? Did you bring me here?"_

_The man smiled. "You are in the Gardens of Lorien. And no, you seem to have found the way through the Olore Malle yourself. That is a rare feat indeed."_

" _The what?"_

_The man chuckled. "The Olore Malle , or the Path of Dreams, is a path I created when Valinor left Middle Earth, a pathway where Men and Elves loyal to the Valar can come and enjoy the peacefulness of the Gardens of Lorien. I think you are to be congratulated. Few Men have ever managed to find the Gardens of Lorien unaided."_

" _Uh, thanks, I guess. Who are you?"_

_The man smiled."My name is Irmo, more commonly known as Lorien. I am the Master of Dreams and Visions. It was my voice that you heard when I opened the doorways between the worlds."_

_Percy nodded."Yeah, I thought you sounded familiar. Are you here to explain?"_

_Lorien swept his hands, and suddenly Percy found himself in a black land. Literally black. Jagged black rocks jutted out randomly, the ground was riddled with cracks. The air stunk of something foul. It was a place of death. Percy looked up, then, and saw a mighty black fortress, one of the biggest he had ever seen, constructed entirely of dark stones. A tower jutted out, imposed over the horizon. A tall tower, and upon it was one of the most horrifying sights Percy had ever seen before, next to Kronos and his coffin. An eye, a fiery eye blazed between two points on the top of the tower. It's evil gaze swept over the land._

" _WHAT IN THE NAME OF TARTARUS IS THAT?!"Percy hissed._

_Lorien looked grave. "That is the enemy of Middle Earth. Sauron, the Lord of the Rings. We thought him defeated many years ago, but he has risen again to threaten Middle Earth. That is why you are here."_

" _You want us to defeat that_ thing? _"_

" _No. Once, long ago, while Sauron still had a body, you perhaps could have done it. But Sauron is now a spirit, a wraith. His life force is bound to this earth by one thing. A Ring. If that is destroyed, then Sauron will be destroyed also."_

" _So that is why we're here? to destroy a ring?"Percy almost laughed._

" _Yes. But it will not be easy, Perseus. This is a Ring of Power, forged by Sauron himself in the fires of Orodruin." Suddenly Percy and Lorien were standing beside a gigantic volcano. Lorien led him inside into a long platform jutting over a lake of lava. "Also known as Mount Doom in your tongue."_

_Percy felt his stomach dropping with dread. "Oh gods, don't tell me…"_

" _Unfortunately, it is so. The Ring can only be destroyed in the place that it was forged. It will not be easy."_

_Percy gave a short bark of laughter."You're telling me."_

_Lorien gazed at him seriously. "Percy, I am here to offer you a choice. When you first stepped into this world with your friends, you had no idea of what you were getting into. Now that you know, are you still willing to help us?"_

" _Why?"_

" _The Valar are not monsters, Percy. We do not interfere in the workings of Middle Earth, and we never force people to do things that they refuse to do. All we can do is put the elements together and give a nudge, hoping for the best. If you cannot, we will not force you. I can open the doorways again, and you can return."_

_Percy looked down into the lake of lava, then back out, seeing the black land and the tower in the distance. He took a deep breath."No."_

" _No?"_

" _You heard me. I'm not abandoning this place. I will do whatever I must to help this place."_

_Lorien looked surprised, even impressed. "Morpheus and Hypnos spoke truly. Loyalty is your mightiest attribute. Thank you, Perseus."_

_Percy nodded slightly."yeah, sure. So what am I supposed to do? What are we supposed to do?"_

" _Join the fellowship. That is all I can tell you for now. Join the fellowship. You will understand when the time comes."_

_Everything faded._

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